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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011762">Voidless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/testedcyberneticz/pseuds/testedcyberneticz'>testedcyberneticz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Animator vs. Animation (Short Film 2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And other things that idk how to tag, Eventual Happy Ending, Existential Crisis, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Recovery, in which i crack open canon with a bat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:47:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011762</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/testedcyberneticz/pseuds/testedcyberneticz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>To which someone clearly wanted to immediately prove them wrong, because suddenly they found themselves looking up at something that wasn't just black, inky void. It felt like they were laying on something, and sound was there and as loud as possible. Victim couldn't even process what any of it was, just that it was there and it was way too much. They'd become used to nothing for so long, probably longer than anyone ever should, and now they were somewhere where everything was with no explanation. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. [V] Waking Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The void was odd. It stirred and grasped, it called to a sky that no longer exists and a sea that no longer was heard. It never held onto anything if something wanted to be held. It never let go if something wanted to leave. Everything stopped passing and changing, and soon enough wrong was just something, and that was the only distinction. An empty void made of inky black and nothing else. It made them nauseous. But it also made them nothing at all. To say that the stick figure, poorly named as Victim, was just in the void almost felt like an understatement by now.</p><p>They had lost track of everything. Time was, well, who knows. Emotions sure existed, didn't they? No hobbies, no toys, no amusement. Just nothing. Them hugging themselves had begun to feel numb after a good while. That was more or less because that had become the only sense there. Warmth or coldness didn't exist, but also they weren't exactly sure about that. They couldn't put any confirmation to if they could still see or hear, because there was nothing to see or hear. </p><p>Was it even bad? They couldn't tell that either, they hadn't been able to compare it to anything in... Some kind of amount of time. They just accepted it at this point, didn't really pay attention to it most of the time. This was just how it was. It wouldn't change.</p><p>To which someone clearly wanted to immediately prove them wrong, because suddenly they found themselves looking up at something that wasn't just black, inky void. It felt like they were laying on something, and sound was there and as loud as possible. Victim couldn't even process what any of it <em>was</em>, just that it was there and it was <em>way too much.</em> They'd become used to nothing for so long, probably longer than anyone ever should, and now they were somewhere where everything was with no explanation. </p><p>Maybe once upon a time, they would've reacted to being overwhelmed by being violent or something, but they didn't know how long ago that was. They just knew that right now it felt like they couldn't move. Everything was so overwhelming that it was like a metal weight pinned on their head. </p><p>What were they supposed to do? Just accept this? Why were they even there at all? They should move. They should get up. They knew this wasn't a dream, it couldn't be, they had stopped being this detailed long ago. So what was going on, why had all of this suddenly changed? </p><p>The moment someone purple and with a crown looked over them, their body decided to simply stop working.</p><p>And when their body decided to work again, they were somewhere else entirely, but still not in the familiar void, and everything was <em>still</em> too much. They noticed they could tell the change in texture from where they had been before, and it made them feel physically sick in a whole new way. Nothing like the void. It wasn't like the void was good, but they were used to it at least! Not. Not this. Not this at all. </p><p>The room was made of something brown. And so was the floor, but it was a different kind. And so was the ceiling. A different brown slab opened, and the purple one from before walked through. They definitely... Had an expression. Victim was suddenly extremely aware of how unprepared they were.</p><p>"So... Hi?" Purple said extremely awkwardly. The sound of someone's voice almost felt grating. They then stood still for a long time, then spoke again, "Uh. Hello? Are you gonna say anything?" Oh, they wanted them to say something? They... They hadn't heard their own voice for awhile. Or talked to anyone in awhile. Victim could quite literally feel themselves shaking and they hated that they couldn't stop it.</p><p>Purple's stance changed to something else, and they suddenly shoved a grey cube into their hand, to which they immediately dropped, and Purple seemed to nod. Then, something in the bottom left corner of their vision popped up. </p><p>"Can you read and write at least?" it said, the text covered in a faint purple. Victim blinked. That... Would probably be better than talking. They weren't prepared to hear their own voice. Not yet. But maybe text...? </p><p>"Yes." they somehow managed to send, their own text covered in a faint grey. </p><p>"Cool," Purple texted back, then said, "What was all of that falling out of the sky stuff then blacking out when you saw me??????" </p><p>"?" </p><p>"EYE." Purple looked taken aback. Victim had no idea why they said that, though.</p><p>"Okay. Ummmmmmmmm," Victim noticed that while Purple typed, they made movements to go along with their typing. This stick felt kind of dramatic, if they were being honest, "Names. I'm Purple," <em>their name was actually Purple?</em></p><p>Some time without text passed, "This is when you say yours." said Purple with their arms wide out. Oh! Oh. That was embarrassing. </p><p>"Victim." </p><p>"O_O'." Was the only thing Purple sent in response. Frankly, Victim didn't understand what what they sent even <em>was</em>, but it had some kind of emotion to it. This was... Overwhelming. It was hitting them clearly, suddenly, and they had to check. They absolutely had to.</p><p>"I'm talking to someone." </p><p>"? Yeah you are." </p><p>"Haven't in awhile." they admitted after remembering that people weren't usually sucked into a void for long amounts of time.</p><p>It was textless for a good while again, and Purple had a hand to their face in thought. </p><p>"¯\_(ツ)_/¯" Purple finally sent. </p><p>What in <em>anything's</em> name was that supposed to mean?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. [P] Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few weeks were surreal. Victim found it hard to communicate with anyone really, and tended to stay away from, well, everyone. Sure, they'd be with Purple the most, but that was still an extremely small amount. Not to mention the fact Purple had to open Victim's options menu and turn multiple functions off in order to prevent sensory overload. That included audio. So, this meant, Purple had to communicate via text all the time. The volume wasn't completely down, but it was faint enough that Victim couldn't hear them right if they talked, and Purple didn't like repeating themselves. </p><p>Especially when it came to explaining the situation regarding the computer owner. Yes, Purple had kept it blunt, but talking about it for too long brough discomfort. It was simple, computer owner didn't care if another stick was there, yes the computer owner isn't there usually because they have a full time job. No, they are not going to kick you off of the computer. No, they do not care that you do this or that, just don't break the computer. Yes, if it broke, they could probably buy a new one, they had an Apple product for a reason. </p><p>Which, when including all of that and more, wasn't to say Victim was <em>helpless</em> or whatever. Yeah, they needed a lot of help, but they got used to gravity existing again very quickly. For the most part, anyways. Sometimes they left things to float in the air and forgot it could fall, but at least they could walk around and stuff. </p><p>And that was more just the physical stuff. Purple noticed that, well, their emotions were almost like a randomizer wheel. They were scattered and it was hard to find out how they'd react to something. There was sudden moments where Victim would suddenly limply freeze. Not to mention the name in general. Seriously, what kind of stick was named <em>Victim?</em> That was... A <em>lot</em>, to say the least. This stick was obviously a big surprise box. </p><p>Though the most frustrating part was the part of themselves they were dealing with. Purple felt they should be happy, <em>excited</em> even! Another stick was here with them, they weren't alone for once! Sure, the villagers existed, and they were sentient to a degree but... They forgot who they were every update. So, it was better to not think about that. It didn't really count. But what mattered was they finally weren't alone anymore, someone else was with them and wanted to talk with them. Sure, said person was super distant, bad at conversation in every way, and didn't understand most emotes Purple sent, but it was still someone. It was basically a miracle.</p><p>So why were they so stressed about all of this? Victim wasn't even mean to them! They didn't even show a bit of hate or anger or anything like that! </p><p>So why. Were. They. So. Stressed.</p><p>As Purple opened Victim's options menu, they decided to not think about it. If they thought about it, it'd just get in the way. It was best to just come back to it later or something. They'd get there eventually.</p><p>"Are you ready?" Purple sent to Victim hesitantly. Victim immediately nodded nervously. It wasn't even that big of a change, but it still was one at all. They were happy stick figures could adjust and learn so quickly, because they couldn't imagine Victim not being used to feeling things when it came to texture when they did this. Slowly, Purple raised the volume up a slight, but good, amount. The whole process was mere seconds, but it felt like minutes passing by in an ice tray.</p><p>They were both still for some moments, then Victim sent, "Something outloud?" Purple hesitated for a moment.</p><p>"Hi." They said out loud, and it made them feel weird because they were directly talking to Victim verbally for the first time in weeks. Victim looked ecstatic, shaking their hands a little before calming down, then waved a greeting to Purple. </p><p>They could hear Purple. They could actually hear Purple. Victim could hear them and they were actually happy about it. It felt amazing, really. Victim being so genuinely happily helped them feel lighter, too. </p><p>"Say more?" they received via text, showing clearly that Victim didn't want to talk. Purple blinked, then did a small shrug. </p><p>"What, do you like the sound of my voice or something?" Purple teased while leaning forward a little. Of course, the answer was much deeper than just using "yes" or "no" to answer, but that didn't matter. Victim crossed their arms in a more playful manner than any sort of anger, and Purple felt a sense of accomplishment that felt different than the usual.</p><p>It felt... Way, way better actually. It felt a million times better than any time any villagers praised them. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. [V] 2015</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Weeks became a month, and then two, then three. Every once in awhile, Purple would raise Victim's volume, and they'd slowly adapt. It was a system that worked, for the most part anyways. Victim recalled the half-rare moments where suddenly every sense was too much, and they feared the void would open up and swallow them whole, take them away from being able to experience joy for the first time in forever. But it never did, and if Victim noticed another stick doing one thing or the other, and things suddenly feeling better while they stood in front of them and messed around with the options, that was just fine. </p><p>They were able to interact with the villagers a little now. Not a lot, and the kids were a little too excitable for them, but it was something. And weird. The villagers were sentient, and understood things, but something felt... Off. They couldn't place it, and it was like a pit in their stomach. It made them spend a little less time with villagers than they usually planned to. </p><p>Purple, though, was really good at interacting with the villagers. They interacted well with them, to the point it almost looked like the process of a well oiled machine. Victim was kind of jealous if they were being honest. </p><p>As of right now, the two of them were actually at the village. Victim leaned against the wall of a house, happily taking in the texture of the wood planks on their back while they watched Purple interact with the villagers. They were holding some emeralds and jingling them around playfully in front of some kids while talking with what was probably the parent. The conversation seemed to be about why emerald armor didn't exist and the such, but Victim didn't exactly get that kind of stuff. </p><p>Still, it was nice being out here. It was nice, the desktop felt safe, in a way. The cat brushing up against their leg couldn't ever have the intention of hurting them. They had someone that was pretty nice to them, too. No one had tried to hurt them yet, and the owner of the computer tended to not pay them much mind. They had never been able to experience any of this, their first moments were spent being attacked for existing, and then entrance into the void had happened forever ago. However long ago that even was by now, as the void had no hints of showing how time passed.</p><p>...</p><p>Wait. </p><p>They can ask now.</p><p>
  <em>They can ask now.</em>
</p><p>Victim's head snapped up almost violently, the thought striking through their mind like a piercing bullet. They couldn't just not ask, they had to, absolutely had to. They'd gone through so long not knowing anything about time or what year it was or what day it was, they had to have this chance now. They had to use it. If they didn't, what would they know when...? </p><p>They shook off that thought as they decided to walk toward Purple. Technically, they didn't even need to be near Purple to talk to them, as they still used text to talk. The idea of hearing their own voice still terrified them. After some time in the void, they had given up trying to talk, now unused to their mouth evem opening or anything. No sound existed in the void. In the void, it was best to give in. </p><p>Purple interrupted their spiral, "What do you need, I'm busy." Their voice had a tone of annoyance, but also some kind of friendly layer to it. The parent looked at Victim, along with the two children, and Victim felt a chill. </p><p>"Need to ask something."</p><p>They paused.</p><p>"Privately." </p><p>Victim didn't wish to be judged today. Purple let out a sigh, and seemed to have a... Really weird look show up on their face for a second as they looked back at the villagers and said goodbye. As the two of them walked away, Purple decided to provide conversation.</p><p>"I was in the middle of something, y'know. I won't be able to do it for awhile." Which was weird, because Purple interacted with the villagers everyday, in that exact same way. Victim tilted their head in confusion as an answer, and Purple made an odd noise to show some unknown emotion Victim couldn't understand. </p><p>"Okay." they send, and Purple is totally unreadable again. They blink once.</p><p>"Anyways, what is it you dragged me away for?" they asked, and Victim almost smiled at the slightly friendly but annoyed tone Purple used. Almost.</p><p>"What year is it." Victim sent, and Purple almost froze. Purple had... Was that worry on their face? They seemed to wipe it away instantly. </p><p>"It's 2015." They answered with a shrug. </p><p>Victim's world came crashing down on them all at once. It was like they had been put into an ice cube, and someone had broken it with a hammer larger than the weight of the world and void combined. It felt as if something had been shoved into their throat, and it was coated in cyanide. Then, it felt as if balloons were clogging it. Their limbs were made of something that shouldn't be there, something heavy and nonexistent.</p><p>2015. Twenty-fifteen. Two thousand fifteen. Two zero one five. <em>2015</em>. They'd been created in 2007. They'd been gone since 2007, considered dead to the world. They hadn't experienced any of the change the rest of the world had, and never would. They'd been gone for eight years. No one had tried to even find them, they knew it, because only one person in the world knew they existed. And he had tried to kill them. No one had cared they had disappeared from the world for eight years, and never would, because the only person that knew about it wanted them gone. How much had the world even changed since then? How far back were they? They couldn't catch up. Never. That was eight years. Eight whole years. Eight years. Eight years. <strong><em>Eight.</em></strong></p><p>"Victim?!" Purple shouted as they grabbed Victim by the torso as Victim almost fell over. They could barely hear it, but it was there, and it felt like the world was spinning. Purple's hold on them barely felt like anything was even there, but they knew it was the only reason they hadn't fallen over yet. </p><p>"Is-Is it a really bad sensory thing?!" Purple asked, sharply lowering their voice, but unable to hide the panic in it. Victim shook their head rapidly, sending the world spinning grotesquely. They felt one of their hands move along with their head, noting that their hand was over their mouth. </p><p>"Think going vomit," They typed out choppily, barely able to focus on anything but the dread they were feeling. </p><p>"No you're not." Purple said as sternly as possible, and began lowering themselves and Victim to the ground slowly. Victim felt themselves be pulled in tightly by the other, their grip tight but gentle. Victim felt their hand leave their face, and then immediately be grabbed by Purple and shifting to hold a crown, one that was no longer on Purple's head. It was cold and hard, the metal offering a cool touch to them. </p><p>They stayed like that for who knows how long, Victim letting themselves be grounded by the texture of the gold and small points, as well as the grip of Purple. However, their panic was only just becoming less external. </p><p>"2007." They sent. </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"Came back this year." They said, and left it vague on purpose. They didn't want to get into it. They couldn't. They weren't even looking at Purple and could tell their expression was blank. Their grip loosened but tightened again. </p><p>"Oh." Purple said quietly, and their voice died after. So did Victim's, until Purple suddenly shifted slightly, "You have now I guess." It was said hesitantly and with stress threatening to cut their words. </p><p>"Guess." Victim sent in reply. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. [P] Relax</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Purple was excited and nervous. Them  being nervous didn't make sense, though. They weren't sure why they were so nervous to do this. It was, quite simply, asking Victim to just do something with them. It wasn't like if Victim didn't want to, they'd get upset, decide they hate them, and leave forever or something. And if they did for some reason, they'd be fine, they always had been. They knew how to be independent after all. Plenty of experience, even. </p><p>As they got closer, they saw that Victim was petting multiple stray cats while sitting near where the Apple music application was, which Purple usually had playing calm music on loop. They seemed to like cats, especially because the cats here were really calm and friendly, even if they were "strays", in the way they were only so by Minecraft rules. The cats seemed to like them just as much. Victim looked up at Purple as they approached and waved as a cat sat in their lap. Their legs were crossed so as to let the cat have a makeshift bed. </p><p>"Hey." Purple said, their eyes already automatically keeping watch for text in the bottom left corner of their vision. They were used to the text box being active by now. Nothing popped up, Victim just looked at them. </p><p>"It's been awhile and it's really fun so uh. Okay well. You see," Oh by every stickman community website, they couldn't find a way to phrase things, "What if we went and mined together. Like, off the desktop. You've only ever been here, but underground we can do cool stuff, like mine stuff and fight things." Purple wanted to punch themselves with how awkwardly they phrased that. Whatever. If anyone asked, they worded it perfectly. Victim just looked at them, then looked thoughtful for a moment.</p><p>"No." They sent bluntly. Purple ignored the odd feeling that gave them. Purple slouched forward in defeat, and Victim and suddenly looked guilty.</p><p>"Not because of you!" <em>Wait, what-</em>, "Just tired." </p><p>What? Victim hadn't even done anything that would cost a bunch of energy in the past few days. Why would they be tired? </p><p>"What's <em>that</em> supposed to mean." Purple deadpanned. Seriously, this was kinda confusing. </p><p>Victim tapped on their own chin, then moved it back to the cat in front of them, "Been fighting for awhile," They sent, "Don't have to anymore. Would rather wait." They said in that cryptic way of talking again. Purple was used to them talking bluntly by now, but it being so cryptic was unnerving, especially when they remembered that number. 2007. Their... Guest? Geez, were they even a guest at this point? Anyways, they were mysterious, that's for sure. And, if they were going to be like that, well...</p><p>"Hmph." They plopped themselves down directly next to Victim. Victim looked at them with some unreadable expression, then tilted their head. Well, what did they want from them? They could surely just go tomorrow or something, just this once. Purple let their feet kick back and forth off the bottom of the desktop file window a little, and Victim stopped staring. </p><p>Both of their gazes eventually turned to the outside of the computer, the world outside it visible for anyone who cared to see, which was sadly only comprised of two people. It was dark with the curtains closed, but a faint light was always on, showering the rest of the room in an eerie glow. Trash was scattered on the floor in measure, and the bed was messy with blankets lazily thrown on. Pictures of when the computer owner was smaller hung on the walls. The owner themself wasn't there. Purple was used to this view, if they were honest. However, they were pretty sure others might feel unsettled by it if they kept a close eye on it enough. </p><p>Judging by Victim's look, they <em>were</em> unsettled. They suddenly decided to pick up a cat and hold it in their arms as their head turned to Purple. </p><p>Text popped up quickly after, "Here is different from there." </p><p>Purple nodded, it was definitely different. Specifically, the inside of their world was more populated and bright. They put their hands on their hips proudly.</p><p>"It's because they don't have an amazing kingdom!" They bragged smugly, and Victim shoved a cat in their face, "Or that." The cat itself let out a small meow as Victim immediately lowered it back to the ground, only for it to walk back into their lap. </p><p>Watching Victim continue to just... <em>Be</em>, Purple wondered. Someone who just didn't talk about where they came from, someone who just showed up one day and not even knowing why. Someone who apparently missed 8 years of... Something. And didn't take it well. Someone who looked kind of pale for a stick figure and always had their volume only halfway up now, because more would cause problems. Someone who seemed unused to touch in every way. Purple wondered what could make a person be someone like Victim, and found no possible answers. They really would prefer at least one but... Maybe none could be okay? Maybe. Hard maybe. </p><p>Text popped up, "Cat do you like?" Purple put a hand to their chin in thought.</p><p>"Persians. They're like me, you know." Purple said, and Victim made a laughing motion, though nothing came out, "What?! Why are you <em>laughing</em>?!" How <em>dare</em> they?! </p><p>The text that popped up almost punched Purple in the face, "Short?" </p><p>"I'm literally taller than all of the villagers!" They said, desperate to prove Victim wrong. Said stick decided to dare and give them the side eye. </p><p>"Calicos also like me." They sent suddenly. Before Purple could ask about the sudden message, they said something that might as well had kicked them while they were down.</p><p>"Taller than you (¬v¬)." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Note: The way Victim "talks", aka text, the pattern is just (usually) removing the first word from the sentence its supposed to mean. If not the beginning, than a dif part of it. Which just means how ppl in text chats talk lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. [V] Reset</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Purple was sulking. It was obvious to anyone with vision of any kind, and a smidge of common sense. It was a weird process, but it was so obvious that Victim was surprised that somehow, all of the villagers hadn't noticed. They hadn't noticed how Purple took a very sudden dip in being less conversational with the villagers. They hadn't noticed how they very suddenly dipped out of conversations. </p><p>Victim <em>did</em> notice, however. They especially noticed when Purple didn't leave their room for two days straight. They had sent things into the text chat, only to earn no response. It was halfway through the second day now, and they were extremely worried. It was just... <em>Frustrating</em>. How did literally none of the villagers <em>notice</em>, or even <em>wonder</em> for that matter? Their ruler was, quite literally, not showing their face. Wasn't that a cause for concern? </p><p>They were in front of the entrance to Purple's room because they did notice. There was some kind of feeling of pressure just by being by it, which was even worse. They honestly were kind of scared to even just touch the door. It was like if they even touched it, their hand would melt off. </p><p>"Purple, worried." They sent over the text chat, and waited some minutes. Each second was excruciatingly long, like they were being dragged through a cheese grater. The only way to describe it was as uncomfortable. </p><p>"Purple. Need to come in." They sent and waited again, with once again no answer at all, and they begun to feel panic. Had something happened to them? Were they too late? They'd only waited because they thought Purple needed space, but what if they were hurt, or worse? </p><p>"Coming in." They sent sternly, and immediately began slowly opening the door, carefully and with a hint of caution. It was best to be safe during whatever this was.</p><p>It did not help opening the door to Purple laying on the floor directly next to their bed. In fact, it was so worrying that Victim was sure their vision blurred for a second as they quickly ran up tp them. </p><p>"PURPLE?!" They sent in all caps, their worry increasing with every second. Purple did not look good, to say the least. They looked horrible, actually. They were curled up on themselves in some weird defense tactic in their direction, barely moving if at all. It made Victim almost feel physically nauseous. They kneeled down to Purple and touched them, in which Purple jerked away from their touch immediately and turned to their other side.</p><p>That wasn't normal. That was not normal. Purple never reacted to touch like that. Purple took pride in people poking their <em>shoulder</em>, usually. Something was wrong and Purple was acting weird, and they weren't getting any explanations. This was frustrating. And panic inducing. Geez, was it panic inducing.</p><p>"Purple?" They sent cautiously. Only a few seconds passed until Purple attempted to curl up even more. What do they do? This was so much all at once, they were honestly overwhelmed. </p><p>But so was their friend.</p><p>Victim slowly layed themselves down right next to Purple, landing and stayiog on their back at the end of the process. They clasped their hands together than lay them gently over their stomach as they turned their head slightly over to Purple. Both were silent for a long time. Too long. </p><p>"Purple." They sent, more bluntly this time. Still no response.</p><p>The air around the both of them felt thick and gross. It was sticky and grasping for something that wasn't there.</p><p>"Worried." </p><p>It was like a weight was falling down on their world, but stopped seconds before crushing something. It would stop, then be thrown in the air to someone else. But that weight's last words would never leave. </p><p>"Also scared." </p><p>Purple's hands grabbed at their own shoulders like chains searching for cuffs. </p><p>"Not of you. For you." </p><p>The air was sticky with something unidentifiable. One that wouldn't leave even if yelled at. When it left, it would be dead to the world. </p><p>"Please."</p><p>Purple very suddenly put their hand out toward Victim, it's presence in and of itself feeling unreal. Victim immediately took hold of it as gently as possible, holding it in both hands like it would drop and shatter if they stopped holding it. They kept quiet, because just that was a huge chunk of progress, considering how Purple had been acting this whole time. </p><p>Had this been what they'd been doing for the other day or so? Just laying like this in this weird kind of position? They didn't like this. They really did not like this at all. This change in mood had been so sudden, and Victim had tried to help before Purple hid themselves away. And, from the looks of it, expected no one to come looking for them. It was hard remembering what the villagers <em>were</em>.</p><p>"It's updating soon." Purple finally said outloud. Their voice sounded empty but full of emotion, the kind of voice that Victim had never heard from Purple before. Victim just kept holding on.</p><p>"The villagers' memory gets reset when it updates." They said, as if not really talking to anyone, "And probably yours." </p><p>That information hit them like a punch to the face. Why would their memory <em>erase?</em> They weren't part of the game in the first place. </p><p>They suddenly became acutely aware of how they were the only two sticks on this computer. That was. Bad. Especially because Victim had only been here for little over half a year. Which was before an update had happened. Oh this was <em>really</em> bad, actually. </p><p>"Not going to forget any of this." Victim sent without hesitantion. They didn't even know that for sure, but they didn't want to forget any of this. Ever. They finally had a life that they enjoyed. They were not going to give it up now. Not ever. </p><p>Purple looked over at them, unreadable. Everything felt surreal right now, if they were being honest. Not being able to read Purple wouldn't be a surprise right now. </p><p>"Promise." </p><p>"It's happening soon." Purple said. </p><p>"How can show I remember?" Victim sent. </p><p>Purple turned their side back to Victim, and their expression became confused and everything all at once, only to finally land on being embarrassed. They averted their gaze, then back again. </p><p>"Ugh," They almost sounded sick with themselves but started to rush, "I'm <em>scared</em>. You'll remember that, okay? You'll remember I even admitted that to someone, and I'll be embarrassed because I even decided to do something that st-" </p><p>And for a few seconds, the world flashed to white. </p><p>Then Victim was laying on something again. Ground. Their body immediately bolted up, right in the middle of a village  full of closed doors. They themselves immediately stood up and made a run for where Purple would definitely be. </p><p>When arriving to where Purple and Victim had just been what they were sure were but moments ago, they didn't even ask before opening the door. </p><p>Purple was on the bed now, which was odd, and their head perked up at the ruckus Victim was probably making.</p><p>"Are you still scared?" Victim sent.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. [P] Garden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi sorry this chapter is short but I'm also not gonna like. Lengthen or shorten chapters for the sake of constituency at the cost of messing it up.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reintroducing oneself to people you had already met before was familiar. But, it was still taxing, and so Purple had the amazing idea to tend to a garden. Which, since it was minecraft and all, really wouldn't take much effort. However, they had failed to consider one thing. One very, very weird thing.</p><p>"What do you mean you don't know how to garden?! We've been doing Minecraft stuff together for so long!" Purple threw their arms into the air.</p><p>"Don't know :/" </p><p>"What have you even been doing these past months?" </p><p>"Snow golems. Cats. Villagers. Concrete powder." They counted slowly, then pointed at Purple, "You." </p><p>"And I haven't gardened this whole time?" Really? Had it really been that long since they've actually done it themselves? </p><p>"Gets sand, dye, and gravel a lot." They shrugged, the cat on their shoulder moving with the motion, and Purple felt a weird slap of embarrassment splatter itself across their face. It's not like they do it for Victim specifically all the time! </p><p>... Just most of the time. But they weren't going to say that outloud, that was dumb and unnecessary. </p><p>"Okay well, I'm going to show you, and you'll be amazed by it because I'm so good at it." They bragged, and Victim's clapping motion brought a surge of excitement. </p><p>They walked up to a block with plants growing out of it, looking at Victim before doing so. Then, with one motion, they cut off the wheat and replaced it with seeds, all rather dramatically. They did this multiple times, until they had completed the whole replacing of the garden. After to which they immediately turned on their heel to look at Victim. </p><p>"Interesting." Was their rather blunt response, hands on their hips and cat meowing. Purple felt some kind of burst of emotion, and then handed the materials to Victim. Victim tilted their head. </p><p>"Can grow cats, right?" </p><p>What.</p><p>"Uh. No." </p><p>"Villagers? That where they come from?" </p><p>WHAT.</p><p>"What?! No," They invisioned it in their mind and wished they hadn't, "<em>No</em>, that'd be terrifying."</p><p>"... :|"</p><p>"Oh come on! It makes food and that's nice! It's the only reason we have cake sometimes, you know." Purple huffed, crossing their arms and shooting Victim a look. </p><p>Victim suddenly inched closer, "Tell me more." </p>
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